Dying for a Cup of Tea
by Melora's Daughter
Summary: Dilma, the God of Tea, has run out of it. And all because of one tea-deprived human. Set at the start of Restaurant at the End of the Universe.


_AN: This is just a random idea that popped into my head one night. I like to write with made-up gods, and it made sense at the time to invent Dilma and add him to the world of Hitchhikers._

_The first bit doesn't appear to have any reference to Arthur and everyone aboard the Heart of Gold, but don't worry, they do come into it._

Disclaimer: As we all know, I do not own any of these fine beings, nor the plot, etc. Sadly. But the gods and goddess of tea are all mine. Apart from their names, anyway.

* * *

Dying for a Cup of Tea

Dilma looked at his breakfast. There were sausages, bacon, fried egg (sunny side up), tomato, mushroom and fried bread. A good old fashioned English fry-up. But one thing was missing.

"Lipton!" he called. "Where's my cup of tea?"

While waiting for his forgetful wife to bring the hot beverage in, he looked at his reflection in the Breakfast Room's large windows. He was quite happy with this form. Not glamorous, but comfortable. This body had aged around forty years and was average, maybe just a tad bit over weight. The eyes were the colour of rich, reddish-brown black tea, with a tendency to water. The hair matched, an almost black shade that had dues of red present in sunlight. Finally, the skin was a light brown, tea-with-just-a-dash-of-milk colour. Dilma nodded. Very fitting.

"Lipton!" he called impatiently.

"I know!" she snapped. "I'm looking for the tea." There came the sounds of tins clunking together. Her voice came again. "Looks like we're out of tea."

"_WHAT?_ How can we be out of tea? I'm the bloody God of Tea!"

Or, more precisely, the God of People Who Drink Lots of Tea. Lipton was the Goddess of People Who Cultivate Tea, and the God of Tea himself was outside growing in the backyard, spreading his leafy branches along the back fence. But this was really not relevant to the current catastrophe.

"Yes, we're definitely out of tea." Lipton confirmed. "I blame that supplicant of yours, the one who's always complaining about wanting a cup of tea. You're too soft on mortals."

"Well, you can hardly blame him. Poor chap's planet just got blown up, taking with it the last shred of known tea in the universe! He's dying for a cuppa and it's not like he knows that the Earth is going to be rebuilt soon." Dilma felt for this particular human. It was a scary world out there without the comfort of tea.

"There you go then. You know the rules of the deities. You're not going to get any of your tea until your follower has his prayers answered. And he's not going to get his prayers answered until the connection between divinity and subject is sufficiently strong enough to allow a virtual-food-transfer." Dilma pulled a face. Not only did his wife sound like a school teacher giving a lecture, she was also right. Until the human became desperate enough, he could not help him.

Lipton walked into the room carrying a tea tray. "In the meantime, you'll just have to make do with this." She handed him a cup of bright pink, steaming liquid.

"What is it?" He asked, sniffing the cup suspiciously. It had a rather alarming fruity scent.

"It's cranberry, raspberry and strawberry tea."

"Oh. _Herbal_ tea." He made the word sound like a disgustingly soiled baby's nappy. "I want a _real_ cup of tea! One that actually tastes of boiled leaves, not mashed fruit. One that has two sugars and milk and –"

Over his whining Lipton snapped, "Don't you go turning your nose up at it! It's all you've got."

Dilma sighed and grumpily tasted the "tea". He pulled a face but continued to sip. After every mouthful he grimaced, to convey that the liquid was vile, and he was only drinking it because he had to and he'd really rather throw it on the grease that'd built up behind the exhaust fan over the stove in the hope it could dissolve the dirt, though he doubted whether the drink could ever be used for anything at all anyway.

If one could actually portray all that though a single facial expression.

Meanwhile in the mortal realm an ape-like creature known to itself as Arthur and to everyone else as monkey man was trying to get a Nutri-Matic Drink Synthesizer from the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation to produce an acceptable cup of tea. And failing. He decided to give up. Then he decided he wouldn't. He sat down and started carefully, in full detail, to explain to the stupid machine what a _real_ cup of tea was.

And it was due to this that when, an hour or so later, a ugly, yellow, chunky Vogon ship attacked the Heart of Gold, the computer was unable to help, as it was currently assisting the Nutri-Matic Drink Synthesizer with a problem which was fully occupying it's circuits. It was then that Arthur realised that this was it. He was going to die.

However, for once he did not share this thought with the rest of the beings on board. Instead he merely contemplated it. And while contemplating this contemplation, a deeper thought, so buried in the unconscious levels of the mind it was almost too faint to be called a thought at all, occurred to him. He was going to die without ever having another cup of tea.

It was these words that floated up through the various dimensions of space to reach the ears of Dilma. This idea was so tragic that is caused the god to get even more teary-eyed than usual.

"Not if I have a say in it," he muttered.

Being a god, his mind worked at quadruple the speed of light. He made a plan and put it into action. And far away, a two-headed, three-armed creature in the same vicinity as Arthur came up with a brilliant, totally randomly spontaneous idea. The doomed beings should have a séance.

After a tense three minutes, the bizarre idea worked (of course – Dilma was a god after all) and being a generous god, he also threw in a pot of the best tea too (courtesy of the real God of Tea, who miraculously produced some nicely dried tea leaves just in the nick of time).

Therefore everyone was happy. The four beings and robot on the Heart of Gold lived, Arthur got his tea, Dilma got his tea. So all was right in the goings-on of tea. Until Arthur came whining for his next cup, anyway.

* * *

_AN:_ _If you don't know how holding a séance saved everyone, I advice you to re-read_ Restaurant at the End of the Universe 

_And sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes in here. My proof-reading is not overly good._

_Reviews are always welcome :) Please? I'll give you a cup of tea!_


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